


tarry till you're better

by frausorge



Series: fourteen wins [3]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Coach/Player Relationship, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, San Jose Sharks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 21:18:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8260777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frausorge/pseuds/frausorge
Summary: The media start mentioning Martin's name and Nabby's in the same sentence.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Joseph Hart.

After game 2 against St. Louis, the media start mentioning Martin's name and Nabby's in the same sentence. Martin breathes deeply and flexes his wrists a little while Nabby reads out the [article](http://www.dereferer.org/?http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Esfchronicle%2Ecom%2Fsharks%2Farticle%2FHot%2Dhands%2Don%2Dthe%2Dice%2Das%2Dseries%2Dshifts%2Dto%2DS%2DJ%2D7688204%2Ephp). Then Nabby sets his phone aside and tilts his head to look at Martin, hands on his hips.

"Two shutouts in three games- that's very good. You have impressed a lot of people already." 

Martin waits.

"Do you think you are good enough to beat me?" Nabby says. "I tell you what: if you break my record, you can come."

Martin takes another breath. "Games or minutes?" he says. Nabby's face breaks into a genuine, open grin. 

"Either," he says. "Both."

He runs his fingertips over Martin's ribs, and Martin bites his lip hard.

"So? You think you can?"

There's confidence and then there's hubris, and Martin never wants to be guilty of the latter. But Nabby didn't ask if he will, only if he can, and Martin believes in himself. "Yes," he says.

Nabby smiles. He presses kisses to the inside of Martin's wrist, to his cheek just above the growing line of his beard, to the bend of his neck. Martin's thighs tremble and his dick strains against the ring.

 

The Blues push hard, but Martin fends off the last few shots and the clock ticks down to the buzzer on Game 3. The fans scream while the guys spill over the boards to mob him. He looks over Chris's shoulder to the bench. Nabby is looking right back at him, beaming.

 

They only run a light practice on Friday, and Pete doesn't keep them long in the team meeting, either. Martin lingers in his chair till it's just him and Nabby left in the meeting room. Nabby comes to him once the door is shut and leans down to kiss Martin's temple. 

"Can I come over tonight?" Martin says.

Nabby smiles and shakes his head. "Big day tomorrow," he says. "Get some rest."

 

The Blues score at 06:14 of game 4. And at 10:11. And at 26:09. And at 30:11.

Pete beckons, and Martin skates to the bench, only slightly more gracefully than he did that time in Calgary. 

Reimer starts stretching in the crease. Martin tugs the bill of his cap down to shade his eyes. Nabby's hand settles over the shark crest on his shoulder, so lightly Martin almost doesn't feel it.


End file.
